time left to be lazy
by Souffles In Space
Summary: He wasn't nervous - he'd never felt so sure of any decision before in his entire life. But it had to be perfect, absolutely perfect. / Drabble; Spitfire; post-"Summit". Some spoilers for "Endgame", if you know what to look for.


**Disclaimer:** _Young Justice_ © DC / Warner Bros. - Full disclaimer on my profile.

**Summary:** He wasn't nervous - he'd never felt so sure of any decision before in his entire life. But it had to be perfect, absolutely perfect. / Drabble; Spitfire; post-"_Summit_". Some spoilers for "_Endgame_", if you know what to look for.

**A/N:** I was still reeling after the ending of the season 2 finale and then I saw a post on Tumblr about Wally proposing and...yeah. I wrote this as a spur-of-the-moment thing.

I finally find I'm able to write Spitfire _and it's after **that** happens._

(I wasn't thinking about the timeline of YJ when writing it so this is supposed to be the night before the events of "_Endgame_" but really soon after the end of "_Summit_" which takes place fifteen days later...eheh, sorry.)

The title is from the song "_The Gambler_" by fun. and this is dedicated to my Spitfire-loving sister Molly, because I know that when she watches the new episode it will completely destroy her.

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**time left to be lazy**  
**~YJ~**

* * *

Artemis sighed, falling back against Wally's chest as she brushed the empty Chinese takeaway carton off of her stomach and onto the floor. The hour was late and the apartment was a mess (_can't leave him for five minutes_) and the only thing on television at this godforsaken hour was reruns of "_Murder She Wrote_", but she was far too comfortable sprawled across the sofa in Wally's too-large clothes with Wally cushioning her. God knows, she'd missed this.

He chuckled, his breath warm against the crown of her head, and laced his fingers into hers. "Glad you're back, babe."

"You won't be glad in the morning when you're cleaning all this up," she said, but her voice was too warm and drowsy for the threat to have any effect. She felt her eyelids slipping down and damn, she was so _tired_. It wasn't the sort of tired she used to get after intense training sessions with Dinah or her visits to the local gym twice a week - it was deep, deep-seated exhaustion from the nights spent under the mask of Tigress, barely ever dropping her guard, watching over Kaldur's prone figure and wondering if she'd ever feel his calm, reassuring presence again.

She'd locked that orange and black costume away the first chance she'd gotten when she'd arrived home. Tigress was gone and never coming back.

She was Artemis again. Just plain old Artemis. And that was fine by her.

His lips tickled her temple when they brushed against it and his smell was so distinctly _Wally_ - an oddly pleasant mixture of cinnamon and that new sneaker smell - and she felt so safe in that moment, and she didn't think twice about drifting off in his arms with that small smile lingering on her face.

Wally waited a few moments, relishing the warm weight of his girlfriend in his arms again and the sudden weightlessness of the stress leaving his shoulders, before slowly, gently wriggling out from under her and laying her out on the sofa. She mumbled something in her sleep and curled her arm around a pillow; Wally snorted and wiped away a tiny dribble of drool from the corner of her mouth.

He wondered how long it'd be until she began to snore. Artemis snored like the revving of his dad's old car engine; it didn't exactly lend to a romantic mood when your girlfriend began snoring when spooning.

Wally's hand reached into the pocket of his jacket hung over the handle of their bedroom door and lifted out the tiny, velvet box; he flicked the catch and opened it.

The wedding ring band was gold and the stone was a precious topaz rather than a plain old diamond - which, yeah, okay, may have been more expensive, but the colour of the topaz reminded him of her hair in the Summer sun (and hey, not everyone's a billionaire).

He pursed his lips, glanced over his shoulder and closed the box again.

Not now, but soon.

He wasn't nervous - he'd never felt so sure of any decision before in his entire life. But it had to be perfect, absolutely perfect.

Tomorrow night, then. Assuming Dick didn't drag the two of them back into the field for another emergency mission - but hell, why not? He wouldn't let that stop him. As soon as whatever business Dick might have for him was over, he'd whisk Artemis off somewhere romantic. Somewhere with a great backdrop. Somewhere with lots of restaurants.

_I'm thinking Paris..._

* * *

**~YJ~**


End file.
